


A Series of Unfortunate Drabbles

by haiwaizumi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drabble Collection, Heavy Petting, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Iwaizumi is affectionate, M/M, Marked as complete but new drabbles possibly to be added, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haiwaizumi/pseuds/haiwaizumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of unconnected drabbles. Crossposting from my tumblr. Multiple pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happy For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi/Oikawa
> 
> I listed to the song Dark Paradise - Lana Del Rey a lot while writing this.

Oikawa heads toward the bar, pace slow. Iwaizumi trails after him, hands in his pockets as he looks up at the dark sky.

“It’s nice to be back home,” Iwaizumi says. “You can’t see the stars in Tokyo.”

Oikawa doesn’t answer him as he steps through the familiar doors and Iwaizumi can tell from the way that his fists clench and unclench at his side that he is nervous. He sighs as he follows Oikawa into the building. The bar itself is small, tucked in between a hair salon and chain fast food restaurant, but it has been the constant in their lives for so long that there would be no other place the third year Seijou male volleyball team members would gather once a year.

“Hey, Tokyo boy!”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa sit beside each other at the booth that had been affectionately labeled as theirs. A few empty glasses on the table are a clear sign that they hadn’t waited for their old captain’s arrival to begin drinking. Iwaizumi smiles.

“Never change, do they?” Iwaizumi asks as he steps forward to stand by Oikawa’s side.

“Still idiots,” Oikawa whispers as he heads over to the table. Iwaizumi thinks that the same words could be applied to Oikawa as well, but he doesn’t voice that aloud. Instead he follows Oikawa to the table and sits beside him after Oikawa is seated.

Matsukawa slides Oikawa a beer from across the table. Oikawa smiles and gives the two their thanks as Iwaizumi leans back in his seat. He’s never been fond of drinking and the other three knew that. Iwaizumi came to the bar to see his friends and to stay by Oikawa’s side.

“How you doing, Oikawa?” Hanamaki asks after taking a sip of his own beer.

“Fine, of course!” Oikawa grin does not reach his eyes. “My students are going to be professional volleyball players in no time!”

Matsukawa frowns and Hanamaki sets down his drink. Sometimes Iwaizumi forgets that others can read Oikawa well too. It makes him happy to know that Oikawa has friends that care enough about him to know the difference between a fake smile and a real one, but at the same time he feels a faint tugging at his chest. _I know him best._

“What’s wrong?” Matsukawa asks. 

Oikawa’s eyes widen, before he fakes a laugh and waves his hand in a dismissive motion. “Don’t go acting like my mom, you two.” Iwaizumi frowns then, hand beginning to reach out toward Oikawa’s thigh, but he catches himself at the last moment and forces his hand to his side. He knows that Oikawa wants to tell them the news, but is afraid. Afraid that they will be disappointed with him. Oikawa really is an idiot.

“You can tell us you know,” Hanamaki says. Matsukawa’s eyes stray over to where Iwaizumi is sitting, forehead furrowed. 

Oikawa blinks. “I—” He starts, only for his voice to break off. He looks down at his beer, fingers clenching tight around the glass. Matsukawa and Hanamaki are patient. Oikawa turns his head to Iwaizumi and although they don’t make eye contact, Iwaizumi knows what Oikawa needs.

“It’s okay,” Iwaizumi says. “Tell them.”

Although Iwaizumi can tell Oikawa is still nervous, a true smile finds its way on his lips as he turns back to the pair across the table. “I’m getting married.”

Hanamaki’s eyes widen for a moment before he smiles, eyes happy but with a touch of sadness. “Congrats, Tokyo boy.”

“Thanks,” Oikawa whispers under his breath.

“Getting married isn’t something to be scared to share with us, you know.” Matsukawa speaks with a slight teasing to his voice.

Oikawa nods. “I know, but I—” He stops, rubbing at his throat like something was blocking his airway. Iwaizumi can see the way his lips tremble. “I didn’t know how you would react—I didn’t—She’s a nice girl.” 

Iwaizumi had watched him in Tokyo. When Oikawa met the slim office worker with the pretty smile and had begun to let her in. Past the smiling mask of a pretty boy that covered scars and insecurities. Since meeting her Oikawa smiled more than he had in months. Had begun to fill in the frame that had been so dangerously thin for more than a year thanks to the cooking of a soft-spoken woman.

Iwaizumi had watched Oikawa fall in love for the second time.

This time with someone other than himself. 

Matsukawa’s face twists into something painful. He reaches out and touches his hand to the top of Oikawa’s, in an uncharacteristic comforting motion for him. Hanamaki is looking at the seat by Oikawa’s side that had always been Iwaizumi’s. They had known about the two of them their 3rd year of high school, right before graduation. Oikawa had been a bundle of nerves that day as well, but the two had been accepting of Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s relationship just like Iwaizumi knew they would. They had always been accepting and supportive.

They do not see Iwaizumi now. Not Hanamaki. Not Matsukawa.

Not Oikawa.

They haven’t for years.

“He’d be happy for you.”

Iwaizumi wanted so desperately for Oikawa to be happy. He wanted Oikawa to smile, to obnoxiously praise his own looks, and laugh so hard that a snort would come tumbling between his lips. Iwaizumi never wanted to suffer the pain of watching Oikawa bent into himself in tears as he suffered alone in their Tokyo apartment, blaming himself for being the one that lived. He didn’t want to stand helpless as Oikawa went through the motions of the day lifelessly for three years, barely eating or sleeping. He didn’t want to reach for Oikawa only to watch as his translucent skin passed through the skin of his lover’s hand. He didn’t want Oikawa to stare at the wall as he lay in bed even though Iwaizumi was right next to him, whispering how much he loved him. Iwaizumi wanted Oikawa to be happy. 

With him.

“Iwaizumi would be happy for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry


	2. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi/Oikawa
> 
> Inspired by [this artwork](http://rubsomepinkinit.tumblr.com/post/96678391011/day-4-au-iwa-chan-im-going-make-you-regret)

“Iwa-chan, I’m going to make you regret not choosing me.”

Iwaizumi sighs, rolling his eyes. His teammates give him a confused look, but he doesn’t feel the need to explain to them why Shiratorizawa’s setter is addressing him by a nickname and challenging him with a pointed finger and haughty expression.

“Let’s do our best,” Iwaizumi says, addressing his own teammates. Kageyama and Hinata nod eagerly, excited for this final match and Karasuno’s shot at nationals.

“Hey! Iwa-chan, don’t ignore me!” Oikawa shouts, and Iwaizumi swears he can see the veins popping on his forehead from the other side of the net. Ushiwaka says something that Iwaizumi can’t make out and Oikawa seems to get angrier. Sometimes Iwaizumi wonders how Oikawa made it through three years of volleyball without murdering his teammate.

But then again, they made an unbeatable combo. _The_ setter and his ace. Oikawa and Shiratorizawa had been to nationals twice already. This game at Spring High, their third year of high school, will be the first time they would play against each other since Iwaizumi had joined the fallen crows as a first year. This would be Iwaizumi’s last chance to make it to nationals. This would be his last chance to play volleyball with Oikawa before he would go on to do bigger and better things with the sport. This was it.

Karasuno loses the first, second, and fourth set.

Iwaizumi’s volleyball career is finally over. It takes a while for Daichi and Iwaizumi to get their team off the court, the cheers from Shiratorizawa’s fanbase echoing in the stadium. Iwaizumi catches Oikawa’s eyes following him the entire time. It takes a few minutes before Iwaizumi can excuse himself from the rest of the team and he wonders if they think he will slink off to cry somewhere alone.

Instead, he waits for Oikawa, leaning against a wall with his arms folded over his chest. A few random people pass him by, but eventually he sees the purple color that by now he has associated with Oikawa. Ignoring the looks that the Shiratorizawa team gives him, he waits until Oikawa sees him. He steps off the wall and waits as Oikawa walks up to him. He’s a bit surprised when Oikawa doesn’t give him the “ah ha, I won,” response he was expecting. The rest of Oikawa’s team continues down the hall leaving the two third years alone.

Iwaizumi steels himself with a deep breath. Oikawa blinks. “Congratulations, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi reaches up and ruffles Oikawa’s styled hair. “You did great.” Oikawa looks at him, eyes hard, expression guarded. Iwaizumi smiles and drops his hand. He couldn’t expect a much different reaction. After all, as far as Oikawa was concerned Iwaizumi had just ditched him for a no-name team. Had betrayed their friendship for no reason.

Oikawa says nothing.

He does his best to smile, but is pretty sure his lips are turned into a pained grimace. To hide it, he looks to the ground. “Good luck at nationals,” he manages past the lump in his throat. Fuck, he’s gonna cry. It’s been so long since he talked to Oikawa and he was going to cry. “I’m gonna head back—”

A loud sob interrupts him. Tears trail down Oikawa’s face, mouth wobbling, and fists clenched tight at his sides. Iwaizumi’s eyes widen in surprise before his chest tightens, a rush of affection flooding through him. “Why are you crying?” Iwaizumi says, wrapping his arms around Oikawa’s back and pulling him into a hug without thought of the time that had passed between them since they had any type of physical contact. “You won, dumbass.”

“But you don’t regret not coming to Shiratorizawa. You don’t regret it at all.” Oikawa’s words are muffled into Iwaizumi’s uniform. Oikawa’s tears collect hot and moist on Iwaizumi’s shoulder and he could care less.

“Oikawa…” Iwaizumi whispers, not knowing what to say. He had loved every minute with his team and didn’t regret choosing to attend the school despite the rough first and second year in tournaments. But he was sure that those words would only offend Oikawa more.

Oikawa fingers dig into the back of his shirt, nails biting into his skin. His voice wavers, vulnerable. “Why didn’t you pick me? Why didn’t you pick me, Hajime?”

Iwaizumi clenches his teeth to the point of pain. And he knows that he owes Oikawa the truth.

“I didn’t get in.”

Oikawa lifts up his head, nose running as he makes an unattractive sniffling sound. “What?”

“I didn’t get accepted into Shiratorizawa.”

Oikawa’s brow furrows in confusion, his mouth slightly agape. His eyes are still watery from his earlier tears. He’s so disgustingly cute. “Wha– But you said you did? You said you got accepted. Back when we were picking our high schools, you told me you were going to Shiratorizawa too.”

“I lied.” 

Oikawa seems confused for a moment, eyes wide and fixed on Iwaizumi who looks up at the ceiling with another long sigh, but then his eyes narrow and his lips form a grimace. “What do you mean you lied…? The reason why I went to Shiratorizawa is because we were supposed to play there together! The only reason I went there is because-”

Iwaizumi closes his eyes. “But you wanted to go to Shiratorizawa. That’s where you wanted to go. Shiratorizawa was going to give you the best shot at a future in volleyball. Shiratorizawa was your dream.” Iwaizumi smiles, his bottom lip trembling just slightly. He can feel Oikawa’s eyes heavy on him and he wills away the same tears from earlier. Oikawa doesn’t need to see him cry. “But you would have given it all up if you had known I didn’t get in. You would have followed me to a different school and played volleyball with me there.”

“Of course, I would have! I wanted to play volleyball with you, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi feels the first traitorous tear slide down his cheek. “How could I have let you give up your dream for me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This implies a happy ending for them okay. It totally does.


	3. Worth It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi/Oikawa
> 
> based on the headcanon that iwaizumi is only affectionate when he’s alone with oikawa and as soon as they’re at home or someones house iwachan CANNOT get his hands off of oikawa
> 
> he will hug him and kiss him and be a huge cuddler

Oikawa closes the door to his sports locker with a grin. Iwaizumi is in the middle of putting on his shirt, and Oikawa does _not_ take a moment to admire the other’s lower back muscles flexing before fabric hides them from view. Sliding up behind Iwaizumi, Oikawa wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s waist and gives a soft squeeze, resting his head on a broad shoulder and tucking his face into the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck. 

“Iwa-chan~ Ready to go home?” 

There is barely a pause before Iwaizumi roughly shrugs out of his hold. “Stop being annoying.” Oikawa pouts. _Rude._

“Rejected again, Oikawa?” Hanamaki asks, snark visible on his face from the other side of the clubroom. Matsukawa snickers beside him. 

Oikawa huffs. “Iwa-chan is just being shy!” He glances at Iwaizumi, almost expecting a light blush to decorate his slightly tanned skin. Iwaizumi’s face is carefully blank to Oikawa’s disappointment. 

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi deadpans. 

“Suuure,” Matsukawa grins. “Whatever lets you sleep at night.” 

Scowling at his two friends, he presses closer to Iwaizumi, careful not to encroach too much into his personal space. “Iwa-chan! Mattsun and Makki are being mean to me!” 

Iwaizumi ignores him, shutting the door to his locker and lifting his school bag onto his shoulder. 

Hanamaki snorts. “I think you’re just disliked.” 

“I am not!” He snaps, offended. “Iwa-chan loves me!” Oikawa says the words with sure confidence but when he turns to Iwaizumi for support, the slightly older boy is at the door of the clubroom. “Wait- Iwa-chan don’t leave!”

Iwaizumi opens the door and steps outside to the amusement of Matsukawa and Hanamaki and the distress of Oikawa. “You’re being left behind!” 

“Mean!” He shouts, in a rush to follow after Iwaizumi. “You’re all so mean to me!” Oikawa doesn’t have to run too far as Iwaizumi is waiting at the edge of the building for him. His frown turns into a grin as he falls into step beside the other. They’ve walked home every day for the last few months and despite Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s teasing, Iwaizumi is not the type to suddenly abandon him. “Thanks Iwa-chan~” Oikawa does not miss the quirk of Iwaizumi’s lips.

After walking for a few minutes, taking a turn down an empty street with no cars driving by, and triple checking that there are no other people in front or behind them, Oikawa slinks closer to Iwaizumi. He reaches for Iwaizumi’s hand, barely able to touch rough skin before the other slaps his hand away. “Stop that,” Iwaizumi mutters, not even pausing in his walk. 

Oikawa huffs. “Aren’t we supposed to be dating?” He mumbles under his breath. If Iwaizumi hears him, he gives him no response. 

Glaring off into the distance, Oikawa silently follows after Iwaizumi, feet dragging. 

It’s not much longer before they reach Iwaizumi’s house and the spiky haired boy walks up to his home silently. Oikawa stands silently on the street, watching as Iwaizumi opens the door to his house, before turning around. Oikawa can see the surprise on his face. Usually Oikawa is practically hanging off Iwaizumi’s side on the front steps, all but inviting himself inside.

Iwaizumi’s brow furrows. “Aren’t you coming in?” 

For a moment Oikawa considers saying no and continuing the short distance it takes to reach his own house. He’s used to Iwaizumi’s cold attitude in public by now, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t irk him to some extent when he is continuously pushed away by his boyfriend. There is only so much rejection he can take. But Iwaizumi is looking at him with expectant eyes and holding the door to his home open and Oikawa finds that there is not a single part of him that could willingly turn away from Iwaizumi now. “Yeah.” 

He takes the few steps up to Iwaizumi’s house, feeling a bit of his cheerfulness return when Iwaizumi makes room for him to enter the house first. Toeing off his shoes, he places them neatly by the foyer. Although Oikawa knows that Iwaizumi’s mom is never home at this time, he still calls out a greeting. “Thanks for having m- ugh” He should have expected the arms that wrap around his midsection, pulling him flush against a muscular chest, but a surprised gasp still escapes. Iwaizumi’s breath is hot against his ear and one of his hands trail across his chest until he can cup Oikawa’s chin. “Iwa–” Iwaizumi gently turns Oikawa’s face so that he can press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Oikawa’s heart pounds in his chest as a barrage of soft kisses are pressed over his mouth as Iwazumi hums softly. 

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi whispers and for a moment Oikawa’s stops breathing. Iwaizumi threads his fingers in between Oikawa’s and gently pulls him further into his house. They walk a familiar path, entering Iwaizumi’s simply decorated room with a stumble of feet and limbs when Oikawa finds Iwaizumi’s mouth attached to his own before the door is even shut. Iwaizumi pulls Oikawa against his chest, hands desperate and rushed as they caress up and down Oikawa’s side, one of them trailing to the back of his shirt and fisting the fabric tight in his grip. 

Wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, Oikawa’s mouth opens with a quiet moan and Iwaizumi takes advantage of the sound, tongue tracing the outline of his mouth and feeding off of the soft gasps that escape from his boyfriend’s throat. Oikawa trips slightly when the back of his knees run into Iwaizumi’s bed. The action interrupts the two, Iwaizumi’s mouth pulling away when Oikawa half sits and half falls onto the edge of the mattress. Iwaizumi wipes away a string of saliva from the other’s mouth, before leaning down and pressing his forehead to Oikawa’s. 

Cheeks flushed, Oikawa bites his bottom lip and tries to regain his breathing, embarrassed about how out of breath he is. “Jeez Iwa-chan,” he gasps. “Aren’t you gonna at least offer me tea?” Iwaizumi smiles, expression soft, loving, wanting, and it’s all directed towards him. 

And Oikawa is desperate for it. Iwaizumi is shy. Iwaizumi does not like public displays of affection. No matter how much Iwaizumi loves Oikawa, no matter how desperately he craves Oikawa’s touch or to wrap his arms around his boyfriend, so long as they are around other people - as long as they are in a place that has even the slightest chance of them being caught together - Iwaizumi will not grace Oikawa with even a trace of affection. Not until they are alone. 

Iwaizumi is not ashamed of dating Oikawa. That insecurity had been erased weeks ago to gentle kisses and a hand that held on to his own through the entire night. And although Oikawa pushes the boundaries in public - despite knowing he should be more patient with Iwaizumi’s wants - the moment they are alone and Iwaizumi is pressing into him, desperate for the slightest contact is all the reassurance Oikawa needs that Iwaizumi wants his affection just as much. 

Oikawa reaches out, fingertips gently brushing against Iwaizumi’s cheeks before he sets his palms against the soft skin. Oikawa smiles, tilting his head and connecting their lips again. “Iwa-chan is so cute,” he breathes out against his boyfriend’s mouth. 

Iwaizumi’s hand slides around to cup the back of Oikawa’s head, fingers gently combing through his hair. Oikawa tilts his head into the touch, a light sigh escaping from him. Iwaizumi leans forward and presses his forehead to the top of Oikawa’s head. His voice is warm, thick with affection. “Shut up, Shittykawa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write more than angst, see?


	4. Beautiful Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo/Kenma
> 
> Inspired by the song Beautiful Liar - Vixx LR

Yamamoto sets his beer down with a loud thump. “What are you doing, Kuroo?”

Kuroo’s eyes shift to the bare wall of the restaurant over his friend’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”

Yamamoto’s fist clenches beside his beer, finger tips turning white. “Why are you just letting him-” His words break off into a loud sigh. He runs his hands through the hair that has grown out since high school. “I don’t understand you.”

Kuroo smiles.

 

Kenma is packing his things in the living room when he gets back. He looks up when Kuroo opens the apartment door and gives a quick nod of acknowledgment when Kuroo calls out a greeting before he returns to packing all his movies and video games into the cardboard boxes scattered on the carpet.

Kuroo throws his keys on the counter and continues to his bedroom.

The four walls enclose on him when he enters. It’s been months since any trace of Kenma has been in the room, but somehow Kuroo still expects the PSP and corresponding games to be cluttering up the bedside table.

There’s nothing of course.

He begins to remove his coat, keeping his eyes focused on the floor to avoid seeing how empty his bedroom is now. He opens the closet door, tugging his jacket over his arm, only to freeze.

All of the sweatshirts that Kenma had stolen from him over the years are back in his closet, hung up neatly. Kuroo’s chest tightens.

The air is too thin, his room too small.

Kuroo can’t breath.

He slams his closet door shut, his fingers clawing at the cheap wood.

“Kuroo?”

His shoulders tense, his entire body curling into itself at the sound of Kenma’s voice. His expression steels into the same calm compliant mask he’s been wearing from the first time that Kenma told him he was moving out.

Kenma stares at him for a moment from the open doorway. Kuroo moves to sit on the bed, leaning back and forcing his body to relax. “Yeah, what’s up?”

For a heart pounding moment, Kuroo is afraid that Kenma has seen through him when he does nothing but continue to stare. Then he blinks. “Shouyou is coming to help move my stuff.”

Kuroo struggles to take a breath. He needs to remember how happy Kenma has been recently. He needs to remind himself. Remember. “Okay, you need any help?”

Shaking his head, Kenma takes a step back. “Just wanted to let you know.”

When Kenma turns away from him, Kuroo finds that his hands are trembling. He stumbles to his feet as Kuroo watches him leave.

The mask breaks.

Feet sliding across the floor in his haste, Kuroo reaches his hand out toward the man he loved enough to let go. Kuroo wants to pull Kenma into his arms, hold him against his chest, breath into the back of his neck and go back to the days when they were happy. To the nights when Kenma would curl up in their bed and let Kuroo wrap his arms around him. To the Sundays when they would marathon documentaries together on the couch because Kenma had some weird obsession with them and Kuroo could never tell him no.

To the days before Kenma shied away from his touch and withdrew into himself.

He stops just before his fingers curl around the fabric of Kenma’s shirt.

The anxiety, the mood drops, the fights. The times when Kenma would retreat into the bedroom he insisted he have when they first moved into the two-bedroom apartment together for weeks at a time. The apartment he’s moving into with Hinata is a one-bedroom flat.

Hinata succeeded in pulling Kenma from the dark when Kuroo could not. Hinata made Kenma smile when Kuroo could not. Hinata was the person that Kenma needed now.

If Kuroo asked, begged, pleaded, cried for Kenma to stay - told him that he wasn’t okay with Kenma leaving him, that he loved Kenma, that he didn’t care if Kenma was happier with the red head, that he wanted more than anything for Kenma to stay with him - he’s afraid that Kenma would still leave anyway.

And so Kuroo drops his hand.

Instead he smiles. “If you forget anything, I can mail it to your new address.”

Kenma looks over his shoulder, his golden eyes appraising Kuroo for a moment, searching for something that Kuroo has buried under so many walls that not even his childhood friend, his best friend, his ex-boyfriend can see past them. Kenma nods.

Cowardly liar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops


End file.
